


I am not ordinary?

by redhoneyplease



Category: Bandersnatch - Fandom, Black Mirror
Genre: God sorry if this is bad, I am ultra sick at the moment, i just wanted to make some content sskskjjjsj, we don’t stan colds!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 05:44:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17892611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redhoneyplease/pseuds/redhoneyplease
Summary: If he’s not ordinary-then,what is he?





	I am not ordinary?

**Author's Note:**

> I hope y’all like this lol, worked kinda hard on it  
> I am ultra sick with a bad cold so I am not functioning as highly as I could be

“Well, look at you,”  
....  
“You’re in a small, _ordinary_ room, In an _ordinary_ part of the world, talking to an _ordinary_ woman.”  
Her hands fell to the shoulders of the chair, fingertips scratching against the cushioning; trying to relieve the weighted pressure on her shoulders; she wasn’t sure this was going to end well.  
Stefan awkwardly half-cleared his throat,  
“B-But, _I’m_.... not ordinary,”  
“...What do you mean?”  
She tilted her head, her hands subconsciously retreating into a fist, carefully treading on the ice-covered surface of what could be a rather deep lake.  
A propped opening of her lips seemed to mirror for Stefan do to the same; but this time, he greeted a nervous grin which paired with a stifled swallow, anxiety looming over him from behind, twisting his list of acceptable words to say.  
“I-I.. watched Colin-,”  
“Colin..?”  
“..Ritman, the one from Tuckersoft? I watched _him_ j-jump... he.. he jumped and, I just, watched...”  
Stefan’s hands seemed to cling onto his earlobe; nails digging into the skin and remaining there. Inhaling the pain and exhaling defeat, he was no longer here.  
“He.. Jumped?”  
Her voice only spoke of confusion, riddled with a yet to be released wash of worry that would only end up seeping through the cracks of her defence; wilting away any serenity she could have, ending with her letting loose to the feeling of utter uncertainty.  
“Jumped... off of, the- the balcony, and I _watched_ \- I WATCHED him fall, and I watched him DIE, I- I don’t know.. what had come over me but...”  
Stefan surged with a message of guilt intertwined with a severe curl of sadness; sending out a cry for **HELP** but having the only person willing to listen; or quite frankly, who cared, be his therapist,  
“I watched him- die..”  
“Stefan, it’s not your fa-”  
“ _I WATCHED HIM DIE_!”  
“ _I said_ , it’s not your fault.”  
The past relay of words caught hold of the sensitivities of both parties.  
It stuck, and as they uncomfortably exchanged sorry glances, the room became clean.  
Devoid of the emotion they once said they had felt.  
Her; Haynes, her lips puckered with a smile that didn’t land between forced nor genuine, as though her expressive behaviour was only a tribute to the people they once were, no, the people they were yet to adopt.  
She dared to inhale a breath, preparing for the monologue she was only allowed one shot at, a shot in the dark, but a shot nonetheless.  
“Stefan, really, it’s.. it isn’t your fault. You didn’t, _decide_ that he should jump, he just,  
did it.”  
She felt her posture rise, the twisted degree of care snaking around her, and squeezing out more, jumbled up words that she begged to be labelled as support but were only really bought for temporary relief.  
“No, I told him.. too, the.. the.. impulse, I didn’t make him.. I didn’t want him to jump..”  
He retracted into his hunch, draining the guilt out of his system through boiling it with a strainer of fear; his words stained with the past, echoing of a desperation to change the slices of shame he had pressed into his memory.  
“Stefan, Stefan, Stefan... let’s take a step back,”  
Haynes blinked away the things she didn’t want to feel; a triad of steady worry, lack of stability that drizzled itself over her own mountain of discomfort.  
He gifted her a neatly placed nod, that only rung with ripples of emotional exhaustion.  
“Okay, so, let’s, let’s _pretend_ you could.. see Colin again, what would you say to him?”  
“I would say... _**I’m sorry.**_ ”  
......  
“I’m sorry, Colin,”  
“What for?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank u so much for reading!! I just wanna say: if you did like it, pls consider giving a quick kudos, it really does mean a lot and helps me understand what y’all like!  
> <3!


End file.
